/ 




Class, PS 2 >£\ S 
Book. , A £ C f S % 4- 



copyright deposit: 



SONNETS FROM THE SILENCE 



SONNETS 
FROM THE SILENCE 



BY 

MINNIE FERRIS HAUENSTEIN 



$J 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

^ewYork & London 

tDlje Ijtnickerbockct Press 

1922 






Copyright, 1922 

by 

Minnie Ferris Hauenstein 



/^ 




Made in the United States of America 






DEC 22 



C1A690697 



MY FOUR BELOVED SONS 

Harold, Barton, Ferris, and Paul A, 

AND MY GRANDSON ERIC WELLS PRATT 
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 



CONTENTS 

SONNETS FROM THE SILENCE 

PAGE 

Proem 3 

is there no land of lost and lovely things ... 5 

The House of Memory 6 

Recognition 7 

To a Tear 8 

The Woman 9 

To the Marble "Melisande" .10 

"As Doves that to their Windows Fly" . . ' . . . 11 

Limitation 12 

To a Lost Hour 13 

To Poets Fallen on Sleep . 14 

Discontent 15 

Experience 16 

The Woman Heart 17 

Expectancy 18 

The Light-Ship 19 

Sonnet of a Sea Lover . 20 

Prescience 21 

The Sinai of the Soul 22 

The Nativity 23 

The Woods 24 

vii 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Mirage 25 

Sea Song of Italy 26 

To an India Shawl 27 

The Wings of Song 28 

The Winter of Spring 29 

Mother-Month 30 

The Spendthrift Day 31 

In Samaria 32 

The Bond 33 

A Repentant Summer 34 

To Goldenrod 35 

Song-Dower 36 

A Sunset Idyl 37 

Love's April 38 

Sonnet in Monotone 39 

The Truce 40 

Love's Loyalty 41 

Renunciation 42 

Pearls 43 

When Love Walks Near 44 

Exiled 45 

Rain Song 46 

Monadnock 47 

Gethsemane 48 

Amos, the Prophet 49 

Dante M . 50 

viii 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

"At the Tomb of Juliet" . . 51 

Evening on Casco Bay 52 

Song of an Old Sailing Ship . 53 

Two Sonnets to Columbus 54, 55 

Ultimatum 56 

To Keats 57 

Understanding . 58 

To One Unloved 59 

Sacrament 60 

Preparation 61 

The Shepherd's Psalm 62 

"The Body is the Boat — The Heart the Sail" . 63 

To Italy 64 

In St. Peter's at Rome 65 

Unforgetfulness 66 

To a Bit of Old Flemish Lace 67 

Love's Wisdom 68 

Mood Dreams 69 

The Dream Bridge 70 

September 71 

Harvest 72 

To-morrow 73 

The Great Canal 74 

The Lighted Candle 75 

To Jane Meade Welch 76 

The King is Dead! Long Live the King! . ... yy 

ix 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

To a Fountain 78 

BERMUDIAN SONNETS 

At the Sea's Rim 81 

Ecstasy 82 

Moonlight 83 

The Storm — At Bermuda 84 

SONNETS OF MEMORY 

Sonnet to Memory 87 

To my Father's Inkwell 88 

To the Memory of George Knight Houpt .... 89 

To William McKinley 90 

To James Nichol Johnston 91 

To Charlotte Mulligan 92 

Sonnet to the Memory of Prof. Wiles 93 

To A. G. H 94 



x 



Sonnets from the Silence 



PROEM 

SILENCE hath songs in every language known, 
On every wind her silvery summons blow, 
Her singing kin, the cloud, the sod, the snow — 
Stars that are constant, mountains ancient grown; 
It is not given vibrant strings alone 

To voice the score of all soul-haunting songs, 
Nor to far-echoing, sonorous flutes belongs 
The diapason of Life's undertone. 

Art hath upbuilt her Temple stair on stair, 

Whose towers touch the very heights of heaven, 
They gleam as Pleiades — the splendid seven, 

And resonant Beauty is high mistress there ; 

Yet Silence stands, with brooding, soundless part 
And breathes the music of the human heart. 



IS THERE NO LAND OF LOST AND LOVELY 

THINGS? 

IS there no land of lost and lovely things, 
No bourne immutable where garnered are 
The glint and gleam of sunset and of star? — 
The dawn-made music crumbling Memnon sings, 
The splendor of massed clouds, — faint whisperings 
Of old-world loves; — some dream-wrought, shim- 
mering jar 
Cellini shaped, — rainbows that fling afar 
Colors on rocks and seas, and robes of Kings. 

Must these be thrust to dim Oblivion, 

No hand to stay their transient beauty's death, 

These nameless treasures men have looked upon, 
Dreamed, stirred and sung to, even with dying 
breath ? 

No ! God, nor gods, could so betray a trust, 

And bruise men's ecstasies, tho* men be dust. 



5 



THE HOUSE OF MEMORY 

ITS stairway circles 'round the human heart 
And he who mounts must make his way alone 
Up to the quiet portals, stone on stone 
The winged years have built, and here, apart 
Dwells pensive Memory — her golden dart 
Opens the shadowy Castle to her own, 
And through her halls, like sudden songs, are blown 
The flutes of far gone days, with tender art. 

Her walls are hung with hopes once high and fair, 
Cobwebs of care, and tremulous strands that gleam — 

Remnants of Youth's fine ardor, — here and there 
The filmy fabrics of some broken dream ; 

Yet, she is warm with welcome and sweet rest, 

And parting, locks all secrets in her breast. 



RECOGNITION 

ALONG the bastion walls of brooding Night 
Two shadows moved with swift and quiet tread, 
And through the shrouded spaces as they sped, 
Each of the other questioned at the sight : — 
"Who art thou, friend, and whither is thy flight!" 
And answering, "I am Silence," thus one said — 
"Strength of the living, daughter of the Dead, 
Soft-sandaled is my service, and my might. 

The other spake: "Tho' kinsman unto Death, 
Sweet is my coming, and my passing blest ; 

I touch the tired eyes of those that weep 
With dew of dream, and essences of rest; 

The very bounds of Life are in my breath, 
I am the mystery that men call Sleep." 



TO A TEAR 

WITHIN the prismic confines of thy sphere 
Is held the pathos of a wide world's cry, 
Griefs jewels thou, and laughter's fantasy, 
Love's shining herald, Pain's one constant peer; 
Caught in a child's blue eye, all crystal clear 

Thou seemest heaven's dew from heaven's far sky 
The rainbow's end on rosebud cheeks to lie, 
A universal message thine, O tear. 

Wherever life hath woven its changeful web, 
Scarlet of sorrow, smiles of silver hue, 

Whenever human fortunes flow and ebb 
There art thou, strong to solace and renew : 

Jesus, for love of Lazarus, felt thy touch 

And Magdalen melted, knew thee overmuch. 



8 



THE WOMAN 

DEAR Love, since thou hast taught my soul to bow 
Within the sacred silence of thine own, — 
Built for me there an altar, and a throne 
Whereto I bring thee all in fervent vow, 
Prostrate, before the white crown of thy brow 

My wandering, world-worn heart hath constant 

grown 
And learned such wisdom from thyself alone, 
It finds thee holiest of holies now. 

As Petrarch and his Laura, thou and I, 
And as beneath the burning Umbrian sky 

Good Francis saw his Clara, so through thee 
I gain the glory of a greater goal, 

And tho' thy dreaming eyes make wreck of me 
My beacon is thy soul — thy stainless soul ! 



TO THE MARBLE "MELISANDE" 

(Albright Gallery) 

HERE Youth and Innocence and Morning meet 
'Neath thy white brow crowned with serenity, 
Child of the greening glades, each listening tree 
Knew thy chaste touch, as when thou came to greet 
Thy mirrored face within the pool, and sweet 
The fluting of thy Brother Pan sang sorcery 
In the deep woodland that was home to thee 
Fair Melisande, whose Spring was all too fleet. 

Ah, who would dare to dream the cruel doom 
The dark gods meted for thy maiden life — 
A bud misshapen ere it bloomed to flower 
A broken dream, and shards of shattered power; 
Love brought thee anguish, gave thee saddening 
strife 
And of his shining altar carved thy tomb ! 

(From the Poem "Pelleas and Melisande.") 



10 



"AS DOVES THAT TO THEIR WINDOWS 

FLY" 

(Isaiah 60-8.) 

MY heart hath known far questing, many a year, 
'Cross moor and meadow, crag, and valley deep, 
In lonely hours hath scanned the awful sweep 
Of Deserts parched, and gray Seas sullen, drear ; 
Hath hearkened, with the friendly stars anear 
The unbroken tryst the ancient mountains keep; 
And heard the homing birds o'er nests asleep 
Breathe the warm message of their brooding cheer. 

There came ' a night, when Earth was lush with 
Spring — 
A slender moon hung slant-wise in the west, 
I saw the weary sheep to shelter go, 
The mild-eyed kine , toward fragrant stalls move 
slow, 
Then leapt within me, as some Titan thing 
One mastering cry "Beloved ! O, thy breast !" 



11 



LIMITATION 

I AM the molten metal, — wild with fire, 
Brimming and swirling in the furnace-bound; 
With hiss and seethe my maddened leaps resound, 
Xaught know I but a fierce, unleashed desire ; 
Now, springs the pulse of pride, as hotter, higher. 
Beneath me flames with scarlet spears are crowned 
Ah, this is Liberty ! — all else is drowned 
In power supreme this freedom doth inspire. 

But who is this, with master-brow, draws nigh, 
Strong with unchanging purport of His will? 
Lo ! in th' cool sluices of the shapen mold 
He guides my fiery feet with conquering eye : — 
I yield, — submit, — predestined to fulfill 
The mightier mission of a life Controlled. 



12 



TO A LOST HOUR 

THOU might 'st have been — who knows ? the destined 
space 
Wherein to rear a Memory, valorous, grand, 
Perchance have glimpsed in Time's slow-dropping 
sand 
A shining miracle to crown a race ; 

This fated hour, mayhap, in some wide place 
Fame waited for the grasp of thy strong hand 
To wrest a priceless secret from that land 

Whose sky is Knowledge, and whose goal, God's 
face. 

Ah me ! a wonder lyric may have flown 
Across the hills of Dream to seek its rest, 
Nameless, unshapen, save by song expressed, 

Whose shards of beauty to Oblivion thrown 
Will haunt thee still, and stir thy sterile breast 

Oh, thou Lost Hour, who came not to thine own. 



13 



TO POETS FALLEN ON SLEEP 

YE banished Bards who 'neath the kindly clay 
Sleep out the still night of the centuried years, 
Will springs of song gush forth to listening ears 
As breaks the morning of Eternal Day? 
Will not your hearts, long mute, leap to obey 

That mastering Muse who with all Dawn appears 
The accolade of Beauty, — she that hears, 
Far off, the steps of Dream upon the way? 

What, then, O, singing heralds, will ye write 
Upon the tablets of that perfect clime, 

As, all agleam with pearl and chrysolite, 

Swing slowly wide the ancient gates of Time? 

Ah, let not sudden splendor blind your sight, 
Lest sense fall swooning on the breast of rhyme ! 



14 



DISCONTENT 

STRANGE, brooding sense that bodes no quietude, 
A thing of fire, and strivings deep art thou, 
Thy touch disturbs Contentment's placid brow, 
Thy voice unlocks the soul's deep solitude; — 
Make of thy better, Best, that which is crude, 
Refine and strengthen, train with patient vow, 
Till nobler lines thine every work endow, 
And effort ends, at last, with Death's prelude. 

This mastering malady great Angelo knew, 
And Keats th' anointed Prince of Poetry, 

While hero hundreds with its spirit strew 
The speaking labyrinths of History: 

Watch well, Q, heart, and make of Discontent 

Divine dynamic to accomplishment! 



15 



EXPERIENCE 

STRANGE things learned I of Love these many 
years 
Since first I drank the rich wine of his grace, 
And read the tender promise in his face, 
Where lurked unnumbered dreams ; for there were 

tears 
He brought like priceless pearls, — and brooding fears 
That circled 'round the guerdon he did place 
Within my waiting hands; oft could I trace 
The sounds of saddened music in mine ears. 

Yet, hath he best of comrades been to me, 

And lent me secrets of his sovereign power; 
Had I not known the mystery of Love's dower — 

Its depths of pain, — its heights of ecstasy, 
Then had I parted with life's very breath, 
And lost him in the avalanche of death! 



16 



THE WOMAN HEART 

SHE sees the day fires gild the quivering East, 
She breathes the splendent air of zenith noon; 
Night's manuscript she reads, all silver-strewn, 
As from her measured toil she rests, released; 
The seasons pass, to her a fount and feast — 
The bitter-sweet of April; rapturous June; 
Soft, tawny Autumn; Winter's grim, wild rune — 
Through all, her hidden vigil hath not ceased. 

Hers is a vassalage of hope; her heart 

The pure white temple for one conquering song; — 
Somewhere, through ages that none reckoneth, 
His soul waits hers, — perchance, in worlds apart ; 

But she her dream holds strong, as life is strong, 
To be her beacon at the doors of death. 



17 



EXPECTANCY 

FAR out upon the ocean's utmost rim 
A loitering ship drifts 'gainst a silver sky. 
The blue sea surges all unheedingly, 
The winds ring out the wide noon's echoing hymn; 
Beneath a vagrant cloud, her gay wings, dim 
In sudden shadow, cleave the wave; — on high 
The zenith sun shatters the canopy, 
And flings a rainbow where the sea-birds skim. 

So is a little hope within my breast ; 

On the broad billows of my restless life, 
With yearning eyes I watch its fluttering sail, 
Now deep in mist, now by some favoring gale 

Close to my harboring heart ! O, friendly strife, 
Bend the fair prow on to its love-locked rest. 



18 



THE LIGHT-SHIP 

POISED like a sea-gull on the restless wave, 
She rides at anchor in her lone estate, 
Staunch as a stately fortress and as brave, 

Hers is a silent service there to wait; 
And motherwise, with finger pressed to lips 

She lulls by ceaseless watch the burdening fears 
Of all her children who fare forth in ships 
Through the still marches of the laggard years. 

Sun-wooed by summer, stark with winter's breath, 
She knows no season, heeds nor day nor night, 
Piercing the black deeps with her eyes of light, 

She robs the waters of their dole of death; 
And like a wing'd warder of fair flight, 

"Welcome — and speed thee on," is what she saith. 



19 



SONNET OF A SEA LOVER 

WHAT means this willing vassalage I pay 
O, mystery Mother, over brooding sea? 
Thy moon-lured tides, in utter constancy 
Are not more steadfast than my heart alway; 
No monarch mountain, no fresh mead of May, 
No rainbow river, rippling melody, 
No hoard of gold the royal sun flings free 
Holds me in thrall like thine own sovereign sway. 

Perchance good Triton in some vanished year 

Bound my free spirit with his spindrift song — 
Blown wild for Neptune and his Nereid throng, 

And sentient still, the great deep's call I hear, 
While the mad waves, in ecstasy upborne 
Sound the clear signals of the Sea god's horn. 



20 



PRESCIENCE 

OH wondrous filament of human brain 
Thou deft discoverer of hidden thought! 
By what skilled magic is thy lesson taught 

With all the subtle fancies in its train? 

Deep in the mind's repose where thou dost reign 
Thy sentient ear lists to the throbbing heart 
Of all experience, — our human part; 

The ache of grief, the bitter sting of pain, 
Joy's rapturous carol, antiphons of Love, 
All these, and more, thy listening senses move, 

Till by the cunning of thy pliant keys 

Thou dost unlock a thousand mysteries ! 

In thee do all Life's cloistered secrets meet, 
Oh Prescience, gift of God so strangely sweet. 



21 



THE SINAI OF THE SOUL 

NO stately altar, fair with sculptured art, 
Nor pleading priest, whose vestment's glimmer- 
ing sheen 
Mirrors the sunlight's wondrous crystalline, 
Is needed for the throbbing human heart; 
There lies, within a soundless depth, apart, 
One tried tribunal, changeless and unseen, 
Where judgment waits — and none may intervene — 
The Coronal of Conscience and its chart. 

King David, down the hastening years of time, 
Knew the corroding curse its sentence brought 
And many an anguish in immortal psalm 
Reveals its power, — no transient peace may calm 
The soul with fretting accusation fraught; 
Yet, stands this ancient Sinai sublime. 



22 



THE NATIVITY 

HIS midnight on Judea's hushed plain; 
About the hill-fires, dimly smoldering, 
The shepherds, wan with chill, are hovering; 
The silent stars, — Orion and his train, — 
Hang like archangels' lamps, a lustrous chain 
Of glimmerng gems against the breast of night. 
When, lo ! above them all a princely light 
Resplendent glows, and glowing, does not wane. 

The Bethlehem world and its sojourners all, 
Beleaguered by this nameless mystery, 

One to another loudly questioning call : — 

"What means this thrilling advent which we see?' 

Oh, slumberous souls, dullards to prophecy. 

Star-herald this of Christ's Nativity. 



23 



THE WOODS 

HERE in the sunlit silence of the woods, 
Like world-worn, restless children, we may learn 
The hidden haunts of peace the heart doth yearn; 
For in these wonder-woodland solitudes 
'Tis as the soul's shut house where none intrudes; 
Here lyric breezes, spiced with the tang of fern — 
Filched from deep dales the eyes may not discern, 
Are singing preludes to more perfect moods. 

Here, in dusk-chambers, shadow-roofed and screened, 
The golden glooms are full of fluted rhyme, 
As if, perchance, in a dear distant time 

A Dryad-dreamer rapturous music gleaned, 
And, startled by some alien sorceries, 
Had vanished, leaving songs among the trees. 



24 



MIRAGE 

IN the wide reaches of the desert's glare, 
Like imagery from some far, cooling land— 
A phantom picture by a phantom hand — 
It rises, o'er the red rocks, burnt and bare, 
And sand-wastes, torrid 'neath the sun's wild stare,— 
Dim, quavering palms whose feathery fronds are 

fanned 
By winds across an azure sky, where stand 
Its crystal towers in the limpid air. 

Ah, sweet, upon my lonely desert skies, 

Now and again doth mirroring memory spread 

Such dear enchantment — life's Mirage to me; 

Two placid pools are always there — your eyes, 
Irradiant glory shimmers from your head, — 

And peace, that breathes of love's eternity. 



25 



SEA SONG OF ITALY 

GO forth, my thoughts a-sailing for today 
Upon the billowy sea of Memory, 
Thy white wings be my faithful Mercury 
And waft me to a dreamland far away. 
Croon me a song, wild winds that scatter spray, 
My heart is yearning to be far and free, 
Since I would see the domes of Italy, 
There is no fleeter messenger — nor way. 

Bespeak for me old Neptune's kindly will, 
Pray that his trusty trident cleaves the storm, 
So battle for me 'gainst all hidden harm 

My dream-tide argosy finds harbor still : 

Then fly, my thoughts — the world is yours today. 
And sea and wind wait only to obey! 



26 



TO AN INDIA SHAWL 

SOME splendid dreamer set thee forth withal 
In tragic India, whose burning blues 
Are blended softly with thy brilliant hues 
As on a painter's canvas, ancient shawl; 
I hear in thee the parrot's screaming call — 
The Temple bells a-sway ; see lofty palms 
That lift green pennons in the arid calms, 
And Indian nights, mysterious as a pall. 

I fold about me Beauty born of toil, 
The olden Suttee flame I trace in thee 
That curves and swirls in deftest intricacy 

With scarlet stain, in flower and trefoil; 

I dream of lambs who yielded their warm wool — 
O, life from life, how strange, how beautiful ! 

Minnie Ferris Hauenstein. 



27 



THE WINGS OF SONG 

THROUGH the long watches of the laggard night 
I heard the rustle of the wings of song; 
As quavering chants that far-off choirs prolong 
So were the flutterings of her passing flight; 
With yearning ears, and ever-sensient sight, 
I harkened for her cadence full and strong — 
That measured word for which God's singers long, 
Whose rhythmic service is an holy rite. 

But only glimmering shards of music seemed 
To lie in scattered waste upon my heart, 

The altar offering that was dearly dreamed 
Lay, in the dawn, a broken thing, apart; — 

When, lo ! at evening, in the hallowed hush, 

I caught its splendor from a lyric thrush. 



28 



THE WINTER OF SPRING 

I DID not ask that Love should come and stay 
Beneath the roof-tree of my quiet heart; 

Sufficient solace did each day impart, 
While friends and fortune fared along my way; 
But, lo ! Love came one silent, wistful day, 

And sowed the seed of dreams within my soul ; 

I did not heed what might portend the goal 
Of life's first promise, — could not deem her clay 

Whose eyes were heaven to me, — deep beryl blue, 
That read the very thoughts within my breast, 

Whose lips had caught the mountain berry's hue, 
That in new ecstasy I wondering pressed ; 

O, blight of Love ! how all my life is riven 

Since Winter grasps what Spring unsought hath 
given ! 



29 



MOTHER-MONTH 

BRAVE, burgeoning April, mother of the year, 
When the worn snows lie tarnished on the wold, 
Dost thou not feel beneath the yielding mold 
Deep thrills of genesis — the struggle far and near 
Of unborn lives, that, each in mystic sphere, 
Unceasing builds through wrappings manifold — 
As did the irised Nautilus of old, 
Expectant, to perfection and to cheer? 

Hope is handmaiden to thy melting breast 
Where stored is sustenance for bough and bloom 

For fledgling flights, that later stir the nest, 

And youth's wild ichor, summer's spiced perfume, 

For dreams, desires, and songs yet unexpressed. 
O, Mother-month, how wide thy fertile womb ! 



30 



THE SPENDTHRIFT DAY 

THERE are wavering gleams in the woodway aisle, 
Serpentine ribbands of noonday sun, 
Spent-gold scattered wide where the green things run 
Wild riot of boscage and bough; the smile 
Of a thousand suns is snared in the wile 
Of the ponderous oaks, the stalwart pines, 
And the larches tall with their sinuous lines 
Like fugitive coins from a miser's pile. 

The Spendthrift Day from his hoarded pelf 
Flings wide the gain that the Night laid by, 

Night that gave only her silver of self, 
Yet his seeming largess is nothing, for I 

Have seen him upgather his countless wealth 

To his darkling breast in the twilight's stealth. 



31 



IN SAMARIA 

THE zenith sun o'er Sychar fiercely burned 
Upon the dusty highway, rough and worn, — 
Samaria! the God-forgotten, torn 
By darkest sin, the Master's heart discerned, 
And knowing, for its purity He yearned ; 
Weary He came, and at the ancient well 
Asked for a cooling draught, and it befell 
Who gave it, proved a woman by men spurned. 

His searching eyes read all her scarlet soul, 
Her life, a blackened page, He bade her see, 
Yet, by His marvelous love, all tenderly 

Withheld His condemnation, and the whole 
Great deeps of Living Water poured her free, 

And set her spirit the Eternal goal. 



32 



THE BOND 

TAKE thou my hand, and look into my eyes 
Who have known Life, and Death, and Mystery, 
Have seen new petals blown from the blossoming tree 
By fiercest blast ; — betwixt us, open, lies 
The Book of deep Experience, friendly-wise; 
Come but the nearer, thy warm glance may see 
The mark an Angel leaves, whose argosy 
Sails silent seas, and gray her pennon flies. 

Her name is Sorrow, and with every day 

She makes her moorings in the hearts of men; 

Thou too ! Do I discover thou hast heard 

Her sudden call — inexorable word — 

The grating prow upon thy shore? Ah, then 

We two must walk with Memory all our way. 



33 



A REPENTANT SUMMER 

AS some despairing day drifts toward the West, 
Companioned with the shadows of the Night, 
Robbed of her love the Sun, that was her right, 
So has our Summer faltered to her rest 
With darkling garments flung across her breast ; 
Yet, as a vagrant wind rents wide the cloud 
Of tearful evening, till, with shattered shroud, 
She shows a golden glance before unguessed ; 

Thus has sweet Summer turned repenting face, 
And loosed the gloomy vesture which she wore, 
As now she reigns, throat-deep in gold once more, 

A very queen throned on her royal place : 
Ah, Summer, from thy long-delayed largess 
Comes now the solace of one last caress. 



TO GOLDENROD 

WHY is it that thy golden-freighted plume 
Swings like some saddening censer 'neath my 
gaze, 
As down sun-sprinkled deeps of woodland ways 
I wander in the day's late lustrous gloom? 
Tho' ruddy sumacs glow where Autumn's loom 
Weaves her wide tapestries of reds and grays, 
The bronzing boscage frames a wistful maze 
With haunting sorrow in its rich perfume. 

Ah me ! the sun-tide season bides not long 

When once she spreads her cloth of fringed gold ; 
With quivering lip she feels the clamorous cold, 

Yet lingers, siren-wise, with broken song: 
Then, Goldenrod, heart-sad, I hold thee fast, 
Of all the summer's largess thou art last ! 



35 



SONG-DOWER 

WITH sound uncertain as the wilding bird, 
Whose cadence soars beyond the ken of sight, 
So comest thou, O, phantom of delight, 
Whose dearest dower is lilt of measured word : 
Deep in the soul's close cavern, all unheard, 
A lyre awaits thy touch, — so deftly stringed 
Its answering melody is straightway winged 
When o'er its heart thy burning airs are stirred. 

Fair mystery that haunts, caresses oft, 
Yet stabs the soul with an insistent fear 

That in some yearning hour, with passing soft 
The far faint music of its flight I hear; 

No keener ill could barren Fate make mine 

Than to forswear me thee, O, gift divine. 



36 



A SUNSET IDYL 

OH, drifting clouds and dreams are sister things, 
A shadow-world that moves in still delight, 

A magic kingdom, moated by the night ; 
Like alien stars in their wild wanderings, 
Their turrets rise, and burnished sunsettings 

Crown with blent gold their battlements and spires : 

There is a Castle with its windowed fires, 
And there is a mystic seraphim, whose wings 

Gleam with the prismic opals of the sky ; 

From far a royal galleon draws nigh, 
Gem-prowed and treasure-heaped, whose harbor bay 
Lies in the pathway of the dying day. 

Ah! transient idyl, — fashioned but in vain, 

Since Night now fills the silent, star-sown plain. 



37 



LOVE'S APRIL 

OH, let us pause, dear heart, a little while 
Here in Love's early April, as its life 
Surges with promise, and its buds are rife 
With heart-hopes slowly opening in each smile ; 
Now, ere the summer with sun-fires beguile 
Our vibrant souls on to dim autumn's reign, 
When the first tenderness of love is slain 
By plenteous ecstasy, and passing wile. 

The ripened riches garnered on life's way 
Shall then be ours, but now this April day 
Holds us in thrall ! all springtime joy is ours 
That brings the presage of Love's perfect powers; 
Now may we see, through brimming tears and sighs, 
The long sweet future in each other's eyes. 



38 



SONNET IN MONOTONE 

ALL the long night the surges cleave the strand — 
Undaunted sea-waifs from some distant home, 
Flinging the jewels of their crested foam 
Upon the white floor of the soundless sand ; 
The warrior winds, that men nor tides withstand, 
Shrill their wild orders 'neath the star-sprent dome, 
With marshalled forces where the breakers comb 
In ceaseless struggle toward their lord, the land. 

So break I, on your cold, unanswering breast, 
And search with sighs the secret of your soul ; — 

Heart of my heart, hath pity never pressed 
Disdain and silence from their high control? 

And must I, lonely, lost, and uncaressed, 

Back to Life's ocean, like these wave-deeps roll? 



39 



THE TRUCE 

FOLD me, beloved, in thy dear arms strong, 
And doubly sure since I am now forgiven, 
I, who with myself have plead and striven 

And conquered, though the way was lone and long ; 

The sweet grace of your smile 'gainst my poor wrong 
Is like clear shining after thunderous black — 
Or more, the loosening of an irksome pack 

From off the shoulders of my heart, whose song 
Breaks on my lips that silent were; we twain 
Must live the first full days of faith again, 

And bury far and deep for love's dear sake 

The bruising sorrow of that sad mistake; 
Now are our souls not two, but one for aye, 
Sealed by suffering to God's judgment day! 



40 



LOVE'S LOYALTY 

I SAID to Love, what is the price I pay 
To gain thy gracious favor ? Shall I bring 

The hoarded riches of my wandering — 
Gold raiment, redolent of far Cathay, 
The broidered glories of an ancient day 

With musky odors saturate, that fling 

The Orient's incense on the breeze's wing?- 
Or jewels glimmering like the heart of May ? 

Would noble name or deed of high emprise, 
Or fame, or laureled Honor win for me 

The cherished largess of love-laden eyes? 
Then Love rose up and answered, scornfully, 
"Dost think with these to barter for my prize? 

My very coming is Life's Mystery/' 



41 



RENUNCIATION 

SINCE I must live, yet shut thee from my soul, 
Renounce the grave sweet language of thine 
eyes — 
That far above all speech I dearly prize, 
Fix my crushed purpose to some alien goal 
That wears no hint of Love's fair aureole, 
Then, Dearest, since my hope so cruelly dies, 
Invoke for me the freighted argosies 
Of kindly sleep, that in its rapt control 
I rest, and know the solace of deep dream ; 
That what is not may for the moment seem 
Truth's very self ! — dead ecstasies that fill 
My hungering heart with their illusive thrill ; 
And beg for me (O, poor and paltry bliss) 
The dreamed benediction of your kiss. 



42 



PEARLS 

I DREAMED a Coronet upon my hair, 
A shimmering strand of pearls about my throat, 
And on each arm a circlet, lustrous fair 

Searched for in crystal fathoms, far remote; 
And of my priceless jewels men might note 
Beauty and form and color, passing rare, 

O'er which the breathless divers wondering gloat, 
Such glorious gems as stately Queens might wear. 

Ah me, in very truth, the dream was mine, 
A precious crown I know upon my brow 
Holy as heaven, sweet with a mother's vow 

As round my wrists warm, roseleaf fingers twine; 
And if my pearls were proven tears to be 
Dear God, they gleam with love of child, and Thee ! 



43 



WHEN LOVE WALKS NEAR 

WHEN Love walks near 'tis heaven for you and me, 
It startles all the sweetness in your eyes 
With mingled light of fear and faint surmise 
At the wild wonder of its mystery; 
And in the rose upon your cheek I see 

The drift of dreams that on our hearts' flood rise. 
Kin to deep yearnings and unspoken sighs — 
The dearest dower in all life's prophecy. 

Ah, Love, your feet, tho' shod with sheen of mist 
And shadowy as the dewy dawn of day, 
We hear like summoning music on our way, 

And, all unheeding, hasten to thy tryst, 

Knowing thine honeyed schemes imperial are, 
And fixed as sun, as planet, or as star! 



44 



EXILED 

LOVE passed my way, I looked into his eyes 
And asked how far he fared and what his quest, 
I begged him bide within my house and rest, 
And know the warmth that on my hearthstone lies ; 
I fed my flickering flame that otherwise 

Had smoldered to white ash, and swiftly dressed 
My candles all alight — (O, hungry breast, 
That yearns the solace of his precious prize!) 

And yet, and yet, he spurned my unbarred door — 

I heard his flying feet across the dale ; 

He turned, as 'twere soft pity did prevail 
One moment, then, on-hastening still the more, 

He cried, above the winds in accents thin, 

"The heart I sought for would not let me in !" 



45 



RAIN SONG 

THE day fares dark — a sullen, sodden thing, 
The furrowed clouds hang fretted by the wind, 
Earth turns a gaunt face, dreary and unkind, 

A bird in silence folds a dripping wing 
While Night waits near her covering cloak to fling 
Around the old world's bent and weary back, 
From out a hinterland of sombre black, 
And no faint crimson marks the sunsetting. 

Yet, eyes of mine, oppressed with rain of tears 
Somewhere the sovereign sun spills golden fire, 

No tide there is but hath its ebb and flow 

No year that wears a twelve-month crown of snow, 
Somehow gray sadness yields to dear desire 

And morning's miracle gives flight to fears! 



4 6 



MONADNOCK 

YOU wear your green as Kings their robes of 
State— 
Broidering balsams, arabesques of fir, 
Across your breast the mists weave miniver, 
And on your shoulders falls the purple weight 
Of ponderous pines with odors saturate ; 

Yours is a calm of ancient, august worth — 
An earliest hero of the formless earth 
That, destined, sprang to Beauty dedicate. 

Magnificent, aloof, alone you wait 

The changing seasons of the changing year, 

They find you constant, radiant and elate 
A watch tower of the valleys, far and near ; 

Companion of the clouds, a friend to stars, 

No elemental rage your quiet mars! 



47 



GETHSEMANE 

AGED and gnarled olives bend o'er Him, 
Oh! the shadows deep and the mystery! 
Oh! the garden drear and the Crosses three! 

Kind solace pour from every branch and limb; 
His cup of anguish to the bitter brim 
O'erflows ; beneath Iscariot's perfidy, 
And cowering Peter's sin, spent hopelessly 
He gropes and suffers 'mid the wood-paths dim, 
And cries, "Am I alone? No outstretched hand 
To give me succor that I grief withstand?" 
Oh! faithless, slumbrous, unaccounting friends, 
Small peace your presence to the Master lends. 

Oh ! the shadows deep and the mystery ! 

Oh ! the garden drear and the Crosses three ! 



4 S 



AMOS, THE PROPHET 
(An ancient lesson with a modern meaning.) 

ROUGH hewn was Amos, man of granite mold, 
An uncouth messenger of lesser fame, 
A homeless herdsman 'neath the moon's white flame 
Who read the mysteries the great stars hold; 
In whirlwind storms his prophecies he told 
And all the Syrian hills were resonant when 
God spake his judgment on unholy men 
Whose sins blazed scarlet in a world grown bold. 

Damascus, silken swathed, knew his hot word 
And Moab mighty, and walled Gaza proud, 

"Thus saith the Lord" chosen Judah heard 
That sped a javelin warning far and loud; 

O, my America, in chaos wild 

Thou too ! Thou too ! Art God's accounting child. 



49 



DANTE 

THO' six momentous Centuries have rolled by 
Dante, a wide world pays thee reverent heed, 
Today thine every noble thought and deed 
Are beacons in the Book of Memory ; 
The kindling Sun that flamed the Tuscan sky 
Bore black with bitterness of weary woe, 
Life gave thee but scant peace, yet in the glow 
Of thy great spirit Dream could never die. 

Love gave thee promise, yet withheld the gift, 
Thy way fared darkling, still, one splendid rift 

Beamed through deep shadow as a constant star ; 
Tho' exiled, bruised, forsaken of thy kind 

All things that were, to be, and, fateful are 
Triumph in Right, the edict of God's mind ! 



50 



"AT THE TOMB OF JULIET" 
(Verona.) 

THO' Time be master in this ancient tomb — 
Windswept and broken by dead centuries, 
Gray with the desolation of deep gloom 

And lichened o'er with mossy ooze, that frees 
The moldy odors of long years — yet, here 
Aye, here, is life, and rapturous memory, 

Laughter and light, and only a moon-beam tear 
Shed in sheer bliss of dawning ecstasy. 

Immortal Juliet, loved of the wide earth, 
Better to lie within this crumbling stone 
Silent in rest, than never to have known 

That fairest, rarest dream, whose tender worth 
Breaks the white portals of Eternity, 
For Love is all, tho' Pain its shadow be! 



51 



EVENING ON CASCO BAY 

1SAW a sea gull winging toward the West 
Whose wavering pinions cut the crimson sun,- 
A graying sail — the long day's service done 
Leaned haven- ward to gain desired rest; 

The little waves, out bound on morning's quest 
Came lispingly up to the sand's white floor, 
As tired children seek home's welcoming door, 
Evening and roof -tree — all Life's loveliest. 

So shall it be when my day's light shall pass, — 

A sudden cloud upon the shining Sea, 
A first, faint shadow on the quiet grass, 

Darkness that drifts and deepens silently; — 
A dim forgetting of the things that are, 
Night! and the silver of one beckoning star. 



5* 



SONG OF AN OLD SAILING SHIP 

I AM content to rest my plunging prow, 
My sails that thrilled to winds on seven seas, 
My mammoth hold that knew the destinies 
Of thick sewn bales, redolent even now 

With tangy odors Orient ports bestow — 
Sharp, pungent camphor from an Asian bough — 
Acacia buds, teak, mellow ivories, 
Dull brass from Ascalon, fine filgrees, 
Mysterious chests that certain merchants know. 

And there were royal rugs from Ispahan 
The burdened camels brought by caravan, 

Like these, I am at rest, and silent lie. 
No more my masts shall bend with shivering creak, 
Nor shall my Captain's voice, commanding speak — 

We have found our last harbor, he and I. 

Minnie Ferris Hauenstein. 



53 



TWO SONNETS TO COLUMBUS 
(Spanish translations.) 

EMBARKATION. 

9r T l WAS splendid faith that bade thy trusty barque 
A Cut deep the channels of an unknown sea, 
Where voyager before left naught to thee 

Of chart or compass the wide way to mark ; 

Out-stretched the ocean lay — shrouded and dark; 
Behind, the laughing, vine-clad hills of Spain, — 
Thy heart was dauntless towards the billowing main, 

The hot sirocco and the waiting shark. 

On board the caravels days wear to weeks, 

Months move like sullen laggards under chains, 
While every heart despairingly complains 

Against the calm commander ; — what he seeks, 
They sigh, is some enchanted, fatuous goal — 
A wearying dream — the epic of his soul. 



54 



THE NEW WORLD 

STILL Hope sang sweetly in his sentient ear, 
On wafted winds from the soft murmuring shoal, 
And great Columbus, kingly in control, 
Saw each long day's declining without fear ; 
Sublime his patience ! and in vision clear 
He saw a new world — as God's hand to be 
Free from the stain of ancient infamy — 
Unsullied, pure — a Virgin Hemisphere. 

At last the herald-sun arose that day, 

When faith found rich fruition; towering trees 
Flaunted their fair green pennons 'gainst the sky, 

The ardent mariners on bended knees 
Kissed the white sands in very ecstasy : 
Then gleamed a cross upon the new-found way! 



55 



ULTIMATUM 

THERE is no death for loveliness or love, 
Tho' strife and stress, and hate and wrecking 
grief 
Be tyrannous and dire, their power, so brief, 
The human heart hath wings to soar above; 

The sun stays not his grandeur for a cloud, 
The moon in silver triumph mounts the storm, 
All Nature moves to perfect, changeless form, 
A mastering miracle by Time avowed. 

There is more glory in fine, selfless lives — 
Compelling beauty, that all pride survives, 

Than all the pomp and pageantry of earth ; 

More to be valued in the scales of worth 
The pleasant aisles where Service walks abroad, 
Since love is deathless and since God is God. 



56 



TO KEATS 

THOU wert a star above an English lea, 
Thy Silvery petals broke upon the cool 
Dark mirror of some quiet, hidden pool 
Whose under-flooding was the mighty Sea; 

A burst of music, thou, in England's ear 
Clear as the hymning of a Grecian lute 
On far Hellenic hills, yet, heedless, mute 
To thine all potent beauty, who would hear ? 

Ah, yearning youth, the years have hailed thee on, 
Up the white stones that are the temple stair, 

Where the world's great, their lustrous laurels won 
Breathe deep, for aye, God's pure unsullied air ; 

Here art thou, Keats, thy singing spirit free 

Thou, the immortal Prince of Poetry ! 



57 



UNDERSTANDING 

ONLY a glance, a touch, and all is said 
When mutual minds pursue a kindred goal, 

No need remains for words to stir the soul — 
A soul by listening love inhabited ; 

My friend is as mine own in thought, desire, 
And, poised and winged, I share each potent flight, 
No dream hath she, of some far splendid height 

But sudden songs my gladdened heart inspire. 
O, comradeship that conquers by its grace, 

Thou art the flame that is the torch, held high, — 
The light that gleams within the lamp's embrace 

Prevailing sun that rims a darkened sky ; 
A song art thou, the dullest ear may trace — 
A glistening halo 'round the commonplace ! 



58 



TO ONE UNLOVED 

UNKIND was Life to dower thee overmuch 
Since Love has passed thee in his golden quest, 
Tho' drinking deep of beauty, all the zest 
Is lost to thee without Love's tear and touch ; 
What were thine eyes, all heavenly pure and such 
A blue as violets wear; thy lips unpressed, 
The ivory wonder of thy maiden breast, 
While cruel Life withholds, yet gives so much. 

What wasted twilights and unmeaning Junes 

Like shadowy ghosts tread through the years with 
thee, 

The silvery sorceries of countless moons 
Are as the muted rhythm of the sea ; 

Here nightingales pour forth unanswered tunes, 
Here blooms a rose where breathes no hungering bee. 



59 



SACRAMENT 

COOL, in the shrouding shadows of the night, 
The table in that Upper Room was laid; 
No glittering goblet there, no cloth arrayed 
In silver broideries, — only the white 
Of one poor wheaten loaf to glad the sight, 
One cup for all, Betrayer and Betrayed ; 
O'er these in deepest thanks the Master prayed, 
Unheeding gloom and taunt of vanquished might. 

Beloved Christ, so patient in Thy pain, 
I shrink to own my starveling heart of fear 
That counts the petty coin of common care 
As 'twere some Calvary, or thorn-cut stain ! 
O, let me breathe that faith-charged atmosphere 
That made Thee conquer even Death's despair. 



60 



PREPARATION 

LORD, I would bide awhile with Thee to-day; 
I need the speaking silence of Thy voice 

And changeless sympathy, now — while the noise 
Of battling arms sweeps all along my way; 
Not that I fear to fight, Nay, Lord, twice nay ! 

Rather, the breast-plate of Thy perfect poise 

I beg Thou gird on me; — such steel destroys 
The leveled lances of sin's broad array. 

In the deep quiet of this mutual hour, 
If Thou wilt bind my brow with coronal, 

Let it be neither fame nor wordly power, 
But Patient Peace that knows no weaponed call ; 

If I be shod with strength as Thou art strong, 

So shall I march to Contest, even with song ! 



61 



THE SHEPHERD'S PSALM 

LIKE shafts of sunlight through a darkened day 
A song of comfort is this shining psalm, 
For tired, timid, lonely hearts what balm 
Gushes in crystal springs along its way ; 
Six lilting stanzas challenge all dismay, 
Here certainty, content and blessed rest, 
Refreshment, guidance, food in pastures blest 
The loving Shepherd spreads for us alway. 

Ah, joy of the anointed — this is here — 
The cup o'erflowing to our waiting lips — 
Continuous mercy as life's long day slips, 

And light that robs the shadowy vale of fear ; 
Soft, singing psalm, my soul leaps to thy praise 
That builds a vision of God's endless days. 



62 



"THE BODY IS THE BOAT— THE HEART THE 

SAIL" 

(From an ancient poem.) 

UPON the sparkling billows of Life's sea 
'Round the blue cape of Circumstance I sail, 
Nor know if harboring haven waits for me 

Or wrecking shoal where trusted chart may fail; 
Yet that deep urge that moves me ceaselessly 
Is both a beacon and a questioning prayer, 
O, to be sure, — but that can never be 
Since I am only I, led by God's care. 

He may not grant me certainty or sight, 
Nor knowledge of the trackless ocean tides, 

But this I have — assurance of His might 

And faith serene that strengthens and abides ; 

Then, forth my boat, brave to each battling gale 

For mine the Captain, compass, and the sail! 



63 



TO ITALY 

WARMED by my life-blood, shadowed by my heart, 
There rests a shrine, thine own, fair Italy, 
And envoys of my dreams on wing to thee 
Bear tender longings that to-day upstart. 
O, vine-weathered terraces, O, fruit-heaped mart, 
Ye towers and bells, and stones of storied arch 
With legends rich, — where gallant spirits march 
Down History's circling aisles ; what part 
Ye play on Italy's wide page ! I fain 
Would breathe your ancient, charmed air again: 
Your marbled dreams and sculptured symphonies 
With Heaven-touched Art, outlive the centuries : 
Tho' lost years filter through the rifts of Time, 
Thy memory lingers like an echoing chime. 



64 



IN ST. PETER'S AT ROME 

LIFT high the leathern curtain, let mine eyes 
Behold the splendor of this mighty fane, 
A World's Cathedral in whose wide domain, 
Such glories meet as herald Paradise; 
Down mellowed aisles majestic columns rise 

In marble, bronze, and porphyry; here ne'er wane 
The cinctured fires beneath whose light hath lain 
Through centuries long Rome's ancient sacrifice. 

Here Art in sculpture lays her chisel down 
To dry her tears above immortal tombs. 

And captured rainbows in mosaics thrown, 
Irradiate the vasty, graven glooms; 

Here hovering Heaven might find on earth a home 

Within the grandeur of great Angelo's dome. 



65 



UNFORGETFUJ NESS 

AS some persistent, haunting melody 
Breathes oi long-sainted, unforgotten things, 
So to uiv soul on quiet, shadow)! wings 

Prifts a dear dream oi olden ecstasy ! — 
You gave me onee a rose, and as 1 ove's fee 

Piopped mid its leaves a kiss, with whispering 
\ on read to roe a verse Its lilt still sings 

When loneliness knows rest in reverie. 

What wells of peaee I found in your deep eves. 
Heart of nn heart, whose every word brought JOYj 

No blight, thought we. could ever more destro) 

The wonder of our love; yet, the wild cries 
Of Memory I hush with mute command, 
For only you could know, or understand! 



66 



TO •'■• Bn OLD I I 

[7 'are thy depths, Q, filmy bee, 

■ Where stately stitches move w ^d, 

As on they march, all to the pattern wed, 
A mellow memory, v. out with grace ; 

'-.'-/: h<v,v '>;/.:. fiv.v-.: ar.'i ::>:: ''..:. y ■'.-"■',[ !<ee;/: %<■'/: 

vanished hands that led 
, in years far sped, 
As is a silenced tong; the interspace 
Of grown tired and worn 

— scan/ 
gossamer we say instead. 
Old Flem .1 past days, 

n drear... .: gfrrc good Belgium praise! 



67 



LOVE'S WISDOM 

WHAT pools of Wisdom lie in love-touched eyes! 
Here subtle Knowledge tender lodgment finds, 
And Prescience (with rare gift to read the minds 
Of Love's most willing slaves) makes doubly wise; 
And here sweet Penetration doth surmise 
The cloistered secrets of two orbits fair 
Wherein a world revolves; oft enters there 
That gentle bravery which is Love's own guise. 

Ah, here are songs with neither words nor rhyme, 
From which heart-haunting melodies arise, 

Till thought and wish are tuned to the chime 
That fills the sanctuary of two eyes ; 

Minerva's three-fold wisdom knew no bliss 

Like to the dear completeness found in this! 



68 



MOOD DREAMS 

I SOMETIMES think the lulling loam would be 
Sweeter than Life with all its fevered rush, 
Knowing a quiet grave, in hallowed hush, 
On some green upland waits alone for me ; 
Perchance it rests beneath a shadowing tree, 
Whose branches house a silvery hermit thrust, 
Where, through the tiny mold-rifts evening's flush 
Would light mine eyes on to eternity. 

How dear would be the roots that start and cling 
Under the warm throb of the April rain, — 
Could I not send you messages again 

On their brave tendrils upward venturing? 
And yet, dear heart, my only lasting cheer 
Would be faint footfalls as they laid you near. 



69 



THE DREAM BRIDGE 

AS silken silence steals along the way 
To meet her lord the Night, in constant tryst, 
When the wide folds of twilight's amethyst 
Wrap in a royal robe the ancient Day, 
So to thy breast I fly lest light betray, 
Dearest of dreams ! then Love, the alchemist 
Makes of the winsome wind my melodist 
Whose song bears far the message Love would say. 
Night's stars are very visions of thine eyes, 
Night's hand a waiting ministrant that plies 
The loom of dreams where soul is woven with soul ; 
Tho' seas of space betwixt us sundering roll 
Night builds a bridge o'er which Love's fleet foot flies, 
And tho' its warden, ne'er demands a toll ! 



70 



SEPTEMBER 

THICK-STREWN her path is with all lustrous 
things 
As through the amber woodland deeps she comes; 
The cricket on his sonant viol thrums 
A cheery welcome, while gold-bronzing wings 
Flutter and curtsy, and each bird that sings 

Wanton with summer, to her wile succumbs; — 
(Have they forgotten how she oft benumbs 
With her chill heart — tho' warm her whisperings?) 

Ah ! but the sumachs blush to greet her face, 

And trees, fruit-freighted, spread a bounteous board, 
While waiting harvests yield a splendid hoard, 

And opulence walks all her ways with grace; 

Yet, is she regnant but a little space 
Ere autumn's trumpets shrill their coming lord. 



7i 



HARVEST 

I PLEAD with Love to tarry at my gate 
I, who for years, long gone, refused him rest, 
And scorned his early searching of my breast 
While Life and Youth made laughter light of Fate; 
I charged him then, unfailingly to wait 

The promised yield of land, and loom and nest, 
Till cask and granary might break, o'erpressed, 
Then would I heed, tho' Love be last and late. 

To-day he passed ; with saddened heart he knows 

The boundless fields of plenitude I reap; 

He notes, at postern bars, where quiet sheep 
And sturdy stock, all silken-flanked repose, 

And his low words are Wisdom's own thereof ; 

"I bring you Pity ! 'tis too late for Love." 



72 



TO-MORROW 

TO-MORROW is Hope's storehouse, heaped alway ; 
To-morrow is the realm of promised things — 
A harbor for the little boats whose wings 
Lie listless in the dead calm of to-day ; 
To-morrow holds the balm for those who pray 
For patience over wounds that bleed and ache, 
To-morrow is Fulfillment, for whose sake 
We heed not darkness, nor a lonely way. 

To-morrow is Love's Mercury, aflight 
With prophecy, a loadster for to-day — 
Beck'ning to quarries where are stored away 

The hidden glories of both faith and might: 
O, Hope, dear cherished daughter of the soul, 
To-morow is thy castle — and our goal! 



73 



THE GREAT CANAL 

YE thundering tides that through unmeasured years 
Have striven for Gateway, where the Isthmus 
bares 
Her slender shoulder, to the strength that dares 
'Gainst unanswering portals, lo ! it appears ; 
For ere the century has grown old with cares 
This Youth of Nations, with the round world shares 
The Oceans' mating and linked hemispheres. 

O, men who dream, what ultimate is here ! 

Ye mastering ships whose message will ye speed 
Upon the silver of that cleaved stream? 
God grant it may be Peace, untouched of fear 
And boundless substance for all waiting need; 
This be the triumph for the men who dream ! 



74 



THE LIGHTED CANDLE 

THERE is one grave men name Oblivion 
That hath nor boundary nor measurement, 
Only the faint sounds of the Past are blent 
In the far echo of its antiphon ; 
Millions unmarked of Time now sleep upon 
The quiet of its breast in mute content 
Who knew earth's folly and fame's blandishment ;- 
The rainbow's end — when all is said and done. 

And yet, and yet, men love their little day, 
Thrill to its turmoil and sweet ecstasy, 
Plunge into battles with their splendid strife — 
Wearing such crowns as circumstance shall say, 
In mastering hope against all mystery, 
Because, forsooth, it holds the gift called Life ! 



75 



TO JANE MEADE WELCH 

THERE is a word my pen would write of her 
That springs unbidden from my heart's deep core, 
Ah, much there is within its meaning's store 
And few there are who as interpreter 
Hath lovelier lived ; — her listening soul, astir 
In its fair service, finds an opening door 
In all of life, and knowing serves the more — 
And this, the crown of words is Character. 

What are the strands that form its fabric fine ? — 
Reverence, Courage, Truth and Tenderness, 
Hands that are strong to strengthen or to bless, 

A heart that quickens tho' it must resign ; 

These are the test that tells of dauntless powers, 
So looms thy likeness, O dear friend of ours. 



76 



THE KING IS DEAD ! LONG LIVE THE KING ! 

BLOOD-RED are all the palace floors adown 
The West, where the great King of Day lies slain, 
His purple mantle shrouding him in vain 
And vain the golden glory of his crown, 
The royal life of him is fully flown; 

His faithful steward, Dusk, across the pane 
Of distance drops a curtain, and the reign 
Of Queenly Night, by heralds, clear, is blown. 

Yet is she regent only for the space 

Ere grows the boy-prince to a man's estate — 

The jocund, laughing Morning, who doth seize 

Within his grasp the lances of the breeze, 

And parts the portals of the East, where wait 

Dawn's ministrants to greet the young King's face ! 



11 



TO A FOUNTAIN 

THERE is a winsome fountain I have known, 
Paven with azure as from some bright sky 
That bends above us, breathless, in July. 
And here in jocund dignity, alone, 

A bubbling Buddha on a shining throne — 
A giant sea- frog sits; the passers-by 
Wind- wafted dews may catch that outward fly, 
When crystal threads like rainbow songs are blown. 

And I am minded of far Italy, 

Where fountains, gushing, sing the glad year through, 
Unfathomed Trevi, sparkling Tivoli, 

That glint amid the ilex and the yew ; 
So this blue, oblong pool set in the grass 
Blows me a dream whene'er I, dreaming, pass. 



78 



Bermudian Sonnets 



79 



AT THE SEA'S RIM 

OUT where the wide sea meets the azure skies 
Vast cities rear their splendors as we pass, 
Towers whose slim heights seem like glimmering 
glass — 
Mountains, foam flecked, that in their grandeur rise 
Upon the sapphire leagues beneath our eyes, — 
A moment's mirage, phantom built, alas! — 
Wraiths which the wind and sea and sun amass, 
Gossamer dream that swoons and drifts and dies. 

Yet, are there ports where great ships plunging sail 
And stately rocks full beaconed for the night, 
While 'gainst the quays the huddled masts show 
bright 

Where the white feathers of the spindrift trail; 
But, by the wind's wild challenge, far it slips 
Like some last, spoken word on dying lips. 



8l 



ECSTASY (Bermuda) 

BEAUTY hath smitten my soul with poignant thrust 
And made me slave to all her witchery, 
Hath heaped upon my heart abundantly 
Food, who has shared but Winter's hardened crust ; 
Poured for me wine of suns and sparkling seas, 
Spread the tranquil balm of sapphire skies, 
The benison of stars for weary eyes, 
And chanted anthems from her towering trees. 

This Isle, sequestered, child of the ancient deep 
Hath Day, gold-haloed as some saint might be, 
Blue-robed as by Angelico's artistry, 

Night that is silent as a fortress-keep; 
Where sound is but a haunting melody 

And color's utterance is of choral sweep. 



82 



MOONLIGHT (Bermuda) 

IF silver, molten from a million mines 
Were spilled abroad with princely plenitude 
On Seas all crystalline by fair winds wooed, 
On quiet homes the pearly glow defines, 
And on far heights where beacons rear their lines, 
On spicy Cedars, or some rock-rimmed hill 
Where gaunt the palms tower, gleaming high and 
still— 
This is Bermuda when the white moon shines. 

The limpid, loitering waves creep up and sing 
A crooning lilt the wise stars stoop to hear, 

Ah, they have known the moon's companioning 
In these rare Islands many an olden year : 

Heirs to her silver from unmeasured mines — 

This is Bermuda when the Queen Moon shines. 



83 



THE STORM—AT BERMUDA 

THE South Wind crossed the West Wind on its way, 
They counselled — let us call our sister Rain 
And on each headland rock, each darkened pane 
Rush in fierce wrath, as very demons play : — 
We'll beat upon the clouds with frenzied flay, 
On Cedar slopes, the mighty mastery gain, 
And stab to anger all the foam-white main, 
Till, prone the earth lies in mad disarray. 

Thus did the trio triumph ; all the night 

The clash of lance and spear swept the spent air ; 
Like snarling crones the winds were, whose wet hair 

Lashed at the windows — yet, when th' herald light 
Of dominant Day gleamed lustrous, from afar, 
Lo! in the West, hung one persistent Star! 



84 



Sonnets of Memory 



85 



SONNET TO MEMORY 

I HAVE but Memory ;— Love's dearest dream 
Was shine and shadow, song with whelming grief ; 
Love's rapt companioning was all too brief 
Ere saddened Sorrow chose it for her theme, 
Piping her bitter airs till they did seem 

Like wafted knells from some far-sunken reef 
Of wrecking circumstance, where glad Belief 
Went down in Doubt, reft of one saving gleam. 

Yet is there Memory! — Love's holiest fee, 
A heritage and recompense full fraught 

With hallowing hope, — the golden mystery 
Of life, — the magic key of Castle Thought, 

Within whose walls lives all that was to me, 

And this have I, in deathless sovereignty! 



87 



TO MY FATHER'S INKWELL 

HOW oft within this cup of murky stain 
Thy fluent pen found rapt companionship, 
The willing ink that once o'erflowed its lip 
Surcharged thy pages in such vivid vein 
They live to-day a vibrant, haunting train 

Of graphic scenes, thine avid eyes had known — 
Towers that rear, and hoary arch of stone 
In mystery Egypt and in lilting Spain. 

Th' Alhambra's glory, Philae's loveliness, 
Cairo and Luxor, Karnac's splendid wreck, 
Pharaoh's Nile, great pillars of Baalbec, 

And changing Palestine, the memory press; 
While I who hold in heritage this well 
Build boundless visions by its charmed spell. 



88 



TO THE MEMORY OF GEORGE KNIGHT 

HOUPT 

(A sweet singer whose voice was silenced during 
the war.) 

LIFE gave him these — to climb adventurous hills, 
Youth, and his Art, a beacon and a goal ; 
God gave him love, and tenderness of soul, 
And strength of aim that struggles and fulfils ; 
A sunny boy, grown of a sudden, man 

Standing upon the mountain height of dream 
He knew no treacherous deeps, only the gleam 
Of ultimate beauty in unbroken span. 

He was a singing Keats, who set his sails 
Unknowing, toward the ports of deathless song; 
Kin to those warrior lads — a chanting throng 

Whose harboring peace lies far beyond Earth's gales, 
Far, far away from Time's sharp, bitter scars, 
Youth ! mid the marching music of the stars. 



8 9 



TO WILLIAM McKINLEY 
(Martyred President of the United States.) 

ONLY such words as Nobleness and Truth 
Rise to our lips at such an hour, to-day ; 
Great thoughts come rushing at the sudden ruth 

That broke upon the splendor of his way; 
A score of years have hastened to their end 

Yet Memory, in tender flight, recalls 
How all our hearts were broken for our friend 

As, swift, the fearful knowledge filled our halls. 

O, kindly man, whose justice, strength and worth 
Failed never in the time of stress or need, 

O, shining soul, whose warmth beamed o'er the earth 
How rich thy life, thy service and thy deed ; 

Let all America remembering, sing 

Here was a man whom God had made a King. 



90 



TO JAMES NICHOL JOHNSTON 

WHAT tears may tell of thy high thought and aim, 
What whispered word, or stroke of saddened 
pen? 
Lo, more than these, the wide reach of thy ken 
Thy stainless life, thy work and song, proclaim ; 
For thee on altar-hearts there burns a flame 
Of pure devotion — kindliest of men, 
That freshens with new fire of grief, as when 
There comes the clear call of thine honored name. 

Can fair Glen Iris or far Donegal 
Forget the music of thy muted heart? 
O, gentle Singer by thy rhythmic art 

These live for aye in memoried madrigal, 

And gleam like stars across a shadowing night 
As thy white spirit wings its homeward flight. 



91 



TO CHARLOTTE MULLIGAN 

HER heart was great with goodness, she foresaw 
The world as God's world, rich in hidden power. 
All her brave days — aye, each full freighted hour 
Proved her wide vision, learned of Love's deep law ; 
From fathomless wells of faith her soul did draw 
Those healing draughts she made her brothers' dower, 
And dauntless, dared, and never did she cower 
To do, not dream, high deeds without a flaw ! 

O, Master- Woman, thy dynamic mind 

Was crystal clear, yet warm with tenderness, 
What voice may chant, what pen may ere express 

Thy lofty soul, thy service noble, kind! 

Lo ! gleaming in these thousand hearts we find 
Thy fadeless Coronal, good Prophetess! 



92 



SONNET TO THE MEMORY OF PROF. WILES 

ART hath its heroes as have War and Peace, 
Who yearned with famished hearts for Beauty's 
face 
And knew deep struggle with the commonplace 
Yet made their conquering craft their soul's release ; 
They held aloft the flame that would not cease 
Tho' swept by alien gales, — their eyes could trace 
Italy's color and her radiant grace — 
Th' Immortal glory of Immortal Greece. 

And here, to-day, 'gainst this gray, honored wall 
One rests who knew Art's wonder and its call, 
A stainless Hero, in whose life were blent 
Courage with Dream and high accomplishment, 
Whose heritage remains — a quenchless fire, 
Herald of Beauty, living to aspire. 



93 



TO A. G. H. 



IN MEMORY 



1LOOK upon the quiet things that stay — 
The chair that gave him comfort, friendly wise, 
The vase that held my last Rose for his eyes, 
His books and pictures, that for many a day 
Winged the deep-weighted, wearying hours away ; — 
The little candle with its half-burned light 
Whose kindling gleam made glad the dark, still night 
And caught the clock's face in its cheering ray. 

I ask of these in tearful wonderment, 

Why do you linger, since your work was blent 

In all the service sweet our poor hearts gave? 

And they reply, by sign the Spirit knows, 

He hath no need of Light, or Rest, or Rose, 

For Heaven gives all — and we — we could not save. 



94 



